Slow Burn

Priya Sinclair “if you raised your voice - you’ve already lost the argument.“

[sinclairpriya]

elijahxwilliams‌:

Elijah pursed his lips, becoming more and more like a pouting child with every passing second over the inevitable loss of his sports team. Unfortunately he was one of those people that let the loss of their sports team effect their entire day, though he was now attempting to reign it in for the sake of Priya.

The joking demeanor helped lighten his mood, and the corner of his lips ticked up at her comment. He tore his attention from the death sentence of any victory and instead to his companion where he even allowed a small laugh to escape his mouth.

“Hey, I never said anything about you being unknowledgeable, I’m just saying…”

He paused and reconsidered where he was going with that. He’d been trying his best to stop himself from being a dumbass lately, especially when concerning Priya, and more often than not he had failed to comply.

“Well even a new born child could figure out that these guys are sucking ass right now. Except for themselves, apparently.” He offered her a more playful grin, uncrossing his arms so he can gently elbow her side. “I bet the two of us could even take them on, what do you think?”

“You’re just saying what exactly?” She leaned in closer to him as she spoke while her hand itched to be doing something other than resting on the bar. There were a great many things Priya would rather be doing but a night out at some bar with good company wasn’t the worst thing she could find herself doing. Though her company was good and this was just another routine she fell into Elijah things were not different but shifted. 

There is a remark being played in her head to him that does its best to be said in time but an elbow to the side, a soft one, has her words disappearing and a cross between an amused and bemused expression beginning to appear. Her hand that did not care to lay idly by lifted and poked Elijah right back in the side before it rested on his arm to size him up. 

“I don’t know, Elij- E.” His full name on tongue would be caught in her throat for she only said his name under other circumstances. It was easy to fall into the other rhythm that the two shared but while lines had been crossed and erased there was still a blurriness to what now could be done without it being interpreted incorrectly. 

Either could read too much or very little into the action. “I think you need to up your gain if you want to take the team head on.” She toyed with him as her hand lightly squeezed his arm before her fingers ran the rest of it before her hand rested near to his’. “And of course be at my level.” A smile formed on her lips. “You may just slow me down after all. I could easily take them on with one hand tied behind my back.” 

[sinclairpriya]

abel-costello‌:

“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t lie to me.” His hands balled into fists at his sides as he stopped himself from doing anything drastic in such a public place but her refusal to answer only fueled Abel’s anger. 

He also didn’t like the way his name sounded on her lips. 

Priya Sinclair had always been so casual with him, and he had let her then, their encounters questionably pleasant even when she was in mourning. And while he had once thought of her as someone who might be different from her family, the consigliere finally realized his mistake– Priya was just as conniving.

You and your family…Marcel.” Abel didn’t need to elaborate as he continued to stare at Priya. He had minutes to get an answer out of her, maybe even less if she came there with her bodyguards and his peripheral kept track of each passerby from the end of the hallway. The weapon holstered around his waist felt heavier with each passing moment as the reality of having to use it when her security detail eventually finds them grew near, but the more volatile side of him, the one he inherited from his father, whispered a more menacing thought:

Kill her and get even.

“I am not lying. I don’t know what you are referring to-” Her counter did little to make this encounter stop for Abel uttered her and her family’s name alongside his own blood relation. Marcel. Of course this was not by some misguided thought or action that Abel dragged her out here. He never seemed like to do anything irrationally or without forethought but they had walked together once without a plan between the two of them. 

He was cold where she was warm but she had always seen it as two forces balancing the other out. The Sinclair part of her had always said to be on guard for she was born in a storm called war but her open minded nature spoke clear and louder saying to look beyond a name. Do not judge a book by its cover.  Had her family been involved with Marcel’s demise, which she had inkling was the case, for who else would gain by his death but her own flesh and blood. If they were, the publicist in her rational began to take over as she talked back and forth between the voice in her head, she would not nor could she admit such a thing to Abel. 

“I had nothing to do with that.” True words spoken on deaf ears.

Her hands raise up between the two of them even though he could easily just grab them and hold them down. Priya would not be caged by anyone not even someone who was better equipped with dealing with threats. “Let me pass,” Priya  as she pressed her hand against his shoulder as if he were a door that was jammed. If she could not out maneuver him than those who could would when they came through the very same door that Abel and she had. “This gets you nowhere.” A thought meant for her ears alone slips off the tongue and hangs in the tension filled air between them. Her blue hues met his in defiance. 

There was not just one outcome now but many and she refused to let the hand of death be the one chosen for her. 

[sinclairpriya]

hadleywest‌:

Hadley knew she had held the woman too long already and yet, she wished Priya could stay here and that they could just chat. The mother knew her friend would not change anytime soon, and it was part of the reason she liked her so much. Priya, who was always taking care of everyone but herself. Hadley wished she could some, even if only a little, part of what she was giving. It was not for lack of people trying, she knew that. Was it pride or absence of self-worth? Hadley could understand the redhead. Taking care of others had seemed to be her path too. First when she wanted to be a doctor, then when she took care of Micheal and finally when Theo was born. 

“Sounds perfect,” Hadley replied with a warm smile. There was no rest for the wicked, but Priya was far from being one of them. It was the mother, but also the friend, in her that made her speak again. “Try to find even one minute to sleep. You deserve it.”

There is a smile on her lips just before she presses the palm of her hand to her lips repeatedly to blow Hadley a kiss goodbye. “I’ll see if sleep wants to be my lover again,” a cheeky remark said in haste as the phone in her hand once more goes off. “This is Priya.” The well known and worn greeting for an unknown caller leaves her lips as she side steps patrons of Sinclair’s and heads out in the brisk day air. 

One break from work would be all that was allowed as she fielded more calls and emails from one reporter after another. The news of Morgan Sinclair arrest was trending almost as well as Sinclair Matriarchy. The plan had worked and that was all that mattered to Priya now as her free hand texted on her personal phone for a driver to pick her up and take her to the family estate. This was only just the beginning of what plans she had to bring her family and its name back into the light. 

FIN

[sinclairpriya]

julius-heller‌:

Julius had spent most of his life without a plan. That sounded bad, but his general experience was that plans simply made it harder to adjust when things inevitably went wrong. Much better to simply adapt to circumstances and react accordingly. It had made him good at his job, because he’d so often been undercover as a man who didn’t do plans anyway. You never wanted to seem smarter than your legend. 

But now, his lack of a plan seemed more … problematic. He’d joined the Sinclair family because they’d offered him the job, and he’d felt bound in some way to Paityn; if he saved her just to let her go and get killed again, what had been the point in doing it in the first place? But now Morgan was in prison, they were probably at war with the Costellos, and no one seemed to know who was actually going to be in charge. Chaos was hard to adapt to. 

He couldn’t exactly get a different job, even if he’d wanted to, and Paityn still needed him, especially with her current ‘situation’ with Luca Costello, one he highly disapproved of but couldn’t warn her away from without coming off like an asshole. So for once he was trying to make a plan, entitled, “Operation Dump the Motherfucker Already”, in which he tried to subtly push Paityn towards a less unhealthy relationship without making her nose dive into depression again. He had no idea how to accomplish this, but at least it gave him something to do.

“If you had to break two people up, how would you go about it? Hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically?” The question caught the redhead off guard as it seemingly came out of left field. She pondered over what he asked as she looked away from him and instead to the space around him. There was the straightforward way of physically getting between the two individuals but that could only happen if one was in the same room as the pair. A simple solution would be knowing information that could make one of the two break up with the other but that was cruel. Unless it needed to be done in order to keep one or more safe. 

A huff left her lips at the quandary Julius had put her in. “Why the question, Caesar?” A nick name reserved for Julius that had come about once she met the man some time ago. One these day rarely heard of any parent naming their child Julius. It was old fashioned, had a mature air around it and had long ago been associated with a man still talked about by history teachers, historians and pop culture alike. As she said it she still did not know if the man cared for it or not. “Has your heart found affection for someone in this hypothetical pair? Or do you seek to be the opposite of cupid?”  

Her gaze once more falls on Julius as she recalls the ways her schoolmates once tried to break up or stop certain individuals from getting together. “Reason would be my choice. Talk with one or both individuals, it would depend upon if you know either of them, and try to talk some sense into them if being together is problematic. Pettiness, gossip and trivial things like looks and such is another way to go if you have the mind of an adolescent or neanderthal. Professing love tends to do the trick but that is only in films, television and books. Unless you plan inserting yourself in either of those things I do not see that working either.” 

What he asked almost seemed an impossible task to accomplish. Not even Hercules had to deal with this form of labor and he completed twelve of the most grueling, tiring and deadly that there ever was. “It seems to me that without more than just your question there is not a clear, clean or possible way to break a pair up. Who is this hypothetical couple you speak of? Do I at least get a name or two? Interests? It may help solve the quandary.”  

[sinclairpriya]

elijahxwilliams‌:

Elijah sat staring at the screen in front of him, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as his annoyance grew. He watched the hockey game as it played on, a disappointing end rearing its ugly head in only a matter of seconds. He couldn’t believe the blackhawks were about to lose. It made him want to give up watching them all together, but the die hard Chicago sports fan in him refused. No matter how bad any of his teams were doing, he just couldn’t give up on them. He’d be there for the lows if only to some day reach the highs. Masochistic, some people might say, but to him it showed patience, dedication, and loyalty.

Sighing, he waved his hand to the bartender to flag him down for another beer before crossing his arms back over his chest and sitting back in his stool.

“Sometimes I wonder if these guys remember that the point of having control of the puck is to eventually get it into the other guys net.” He grumbled in frustration, throwing the comment out there though to no one in particular. Seeing someone out of the corner of his eye beside him, he turned his attention to them and pointed at the offending image on the screen.

“You know what I’m talking about, right?”

She had played her fair share of sports throughout her early adolescence and two of them carried on well into university. She never got consumed by the fanfare that was associated with many of the sports game played on the gigantic screens around her. Men, women and even children went through one rollercoaster after another with every game that consumed their lives. Games like these should not be all consuming but this was the world that she lived in where sports players were paid more than teachers and men were still valued more than their more competent counter part, women. 

“I do.”

Hockey was one of the few sports Priya did not mind watching. Once upon a time she had watched it with Morgan and every time their home team played she would watch with him until the winner emerged. In the beginning, she had only watched it with him to spend some quality time with him even if the only words he spoke were curses at the television. It had been nice, normal and a fading memory as more and more days passed. Soon it would be another hole where the father she once knew use to be.

A smirk began to form on her lips as she leaned in towards Elijah, “Just because you see my nose more in a book than my eyes glued to the sports channel doesn’t mean I am unknowledgeable about this.” Her hand patted the folded arm that was closest to her before she rested it once more on the bar. “You should give me more credit.”  

[sinclairpriya]

elijahxwilliams‌:

Elijah adjusted himself once more the moment Priya takes the book from him. The hand that had been supporting his head drops away and allows it to rest on the pillow beneath him while the hand rests on Atticus now that he wasn’t worried of being crushed.

He remained on his side so that he could watch her as she began the story of the lovelorn boy. With every word she spoke he felt a wave of calmness float over him, finally lulling him closer to the sleep he craved. The story went on and part of him actually understood what Oscar Wilde was writing about as Priya read his words. The nightingale was a self sacrifice for a love that would never bloom, a metaphor, he was sure. But the more he attempted to think about the sad tale and what its underlying meaning must be, the more he found his eyes beginning to close of their own accord.

Eli briefly wondered if he should go back to the guest room now while he was still conscious enough to move, but the end of the story begged to be heard and he delayed his movement in favor of it.

He could feel Priya looking over at him as she continued on, though his eyes had closed at some point without his permission. His eyes fluttered back open as if to prove he was still awake but she had gone back to looking at the book as she read more of the story.

Finally his eyes began to ache with the attempt at keeping them open and the need to close them finally won out. Once they shut, the words that left Priya’s mouth became softer and less defined as he allowed himself to drift off to sleep. If he happened to wake up with enough energy he’d move himself back to the guest bedroom, but for now he could only manage sleep on the opposite side of Priya’s bed, Atticus already sound asleep between them.

Like the fairy tale, the night had come to an end. Sound asleep was Atticus, his paws moving at his side as he dream. Then there was Elijah whose eyes had finally stayed shut. She would not kick him out of her bed, not this time for she too was feeling the weight of sleep behind her eyes. Oscar Wilde’s words had done the impossible and for that she would take care to place her beloved book on her bedside table.

Just before she turned off the bed side light she reached her hand towards the throw blanket and pulled it up towards Elijah chin. The back of her hand gently skimmed his jawline before she pulled herself back and once more situated herself. With darkness around her and her arms wrapped around Atticus she too found comfort in sleep’s warm embrace. 

FIN

[catty-words]

[elijahxwilliams]

@sinclairpriya

[weltenwellen]

I have pasts inside me I did not bury properly.

Ijeoma Umebinyuo, from “Confessions”, published in “Questions for Ada” (via chvrliehunnam)

[merrymusings]

[sinclairpriya]

elijahxwilliams‌:

Taking the book that she handed him, he looked the the cover over and ran his hand over it as if it would begin reading itself out loud. No such luck. The title, however, did make him smile and he returned his attention to Priya as he shifted positions so that he way laying on his side with his hand supporting his head. He held the book out to her and waggled it in her face, continuing his childish antics.

“I meant any good books for you to read out loud.”

He was a 28 year old man, fully grown by every definition of the word, but there just was something about being read to that was calming in a way that reading just wasn’t. Of course, Elijah also wasn’t much of a reader to begin with, so it helped when there was a real live audio book at your disposal.

Briefly taking the book back out of her face so he could peruse the contents, he spotted a title and then held the book back out to her for her to take. “Let’s do The Nightingale and the Rose, tonight.” He was sure he’d heard it before, something about it seemed familiar, but all the talk of mystical creatures they’d had earlier in the night made him feel some type of way. The weed probably also added to that effect. And the title The Nightingale and the Rose just kind of rang out as fitting.

“I promise I’ll leave once you’re done.”

A playful shove of his shoulder was her response to his remark. Of course she knew that is what he wanted when he made himself comfortable in her bed. If he had only wanted a book to read he knew where to find them. An eye roll was done for dramatic effect as he waved her book in front of her face. She was not annoyed by him despite the expression found on her features. More amused than anything else. 

It took a lot to get Priya annoyed and so far Elijah had managed to dance around the things that set her off or he actually did know her almost as much as she knew that book. “I can’t read to you if you hold onto that or wave it in my face.” Priya reached across Atticus who lay on half on top of her and beside her to pluck the book from Elijah’s grasp. She was the Wendy to his Peter Pan gearing up to tell the original Lost Boy and his band of brothers a story. 

She set the book with the page open to the story he requested on her lap as she adjusted the pillows behind her and shimmed herself down until she was in a comfortable position. “She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses, cried the young Student; but in all my garden there is no red rose,” she began to tell the tale about a  young man who has feelings for a girl that promises to dance with him at a ball, should he bring her a red rose. The boy is upset because he doesn't have any red roses, and a nightingale overhears. The nightingale desperately tries to find a red rose, but she cannot. A soothing voice is put on by Priya as she continues to bring to life Oscar Wilde’s words with the sound of her voice and weave a picture that she hoped would help lull the man beside her to sleep. 

Atticus is the first to fall asleep, his breathes deep and consistent as she ran her hand through his fur before she had to turn the page. The tale is not one with a happy ending one excepts a fairy tale to have. As Priya reads, “Death is a great price to pay for a red rose, cried the Nightingale and Life is very dear to all,” she glances over at Elijah to check if he is still in fact with her or if he too has now met the warm embrace that only sleep can offer. Unsure yet of where Elijah lies between awake and sleep she continues. Eventually, the nightingale sacrifices her life, using her blood to stain a white rose red. The girl whom the boy loves changes her mind despite his offer of a red rose, as she has a better gift from another suitor. The boy goes home and delves into a book. 

[sinclairpriya]

abel-costello‌:

Her plea fell on deaf ears as Abel tightened his grip on her wrist, it would bruise but the intention was to hurt her…right? He knew that Priya could simply raise her voice and it would be enough for someone to take notice but with the next band playing and the music on full blast, the two might as well be alone. His head tilted to the side before responding.

“No,” he uttered, the sound of his voice drowned out by the noise of the crowd. Abel pulled Priya closer, his head now lowered to gaze at her; the male wanted answers but he knew better than to discuss anything out in the open, if she was there, someone else might be too.

Much like before, Abel led the redhead with ease, though this time, the consigliere had both hands on her– in case she pulled away –and they navigated to one of the dark, narrow hallways that led to a door in the back alley. As they walked, Abel kept his guard up in case she had security with her, after all, there had been a change in management on the Sinclair side. He then let go of her but not before pushing Priya against the wall, the few who took notice excused it to a lover’s spat, Chicago was too broken to have anyone play hero and doing so ensured they lived longer.

“Talk,” he ordered. The statement was usually followed by a threat but in such a public place, Abel would be stupid to try anything as shoot her right there.

“How long have you been planning it?” Morgan Sinclair’s incarceration, the whole show of his family turning their back on him so that the Costellos lowered their guards long enough for a strike; it was insulting how they’ve all been played, even if Abel never bought their attempt at an olive branch one bit. 

Abort. Abort. Abort. 

If only it was as easy to get away from Abel as it was to push a button and cancel a mission, a launch or something else that had those words attached to it. The music grew louder and the room seemed to enclose upon her as the Costello male’s grip tightened on her wrist. Was she concerned? Of course. The severity of the situation she had gotten herself into would not present itself until later. 

Security could do little if they no longer saw her head amongst the crowd. Even with her locks of fire, she would not stand out with the dim lighting and the arms that raised in the air in cheer. An infinite amount of fingers crossing would not get her out of the spider’s web she found herself in. A web she held weave with intricate patterns tracing back to their beginning. 

Her free hand grasped the hand that held her, putting pressure upon it as if it would make a difference. She would have thought that self defense lessons would prepare her for a moment like this when she was grabbed but in the moment everyone reacts differently. In her case, she knew the right moves, saw it play out in her head and what should happen next but things sometimes did not go according to plan. No matter how many hours she spent preparing for them. 

She winced when her back smacked against the cold brick. There would be a bruise there and on the wrist that throbbed after Abel had released her. She raised that throbbing wrist to her chest as her other hand rubbed against as if the pain was like an ink stain that only needed pressure to be removed. One breath. Two breath. Three. Her gazed flicked back up to meet his cold, blue eyed stare. A flash of worry was surely shown in her eyes before she found what resolve she had and calmed the racing beat of her heart. Logic and words. Thoughts over emotions. You are a Sinclair, no, a Moreau. 

“What are you referring to?” She counters as her voice kept the steadiness she was known for. “Planning what, Abel?” His name on her lips tasted sour. 

[sinclairpriya]

elijahxwilliams‌:

Elijah grinned broadly at Priya’s comment after he opened the door to her bedroom. He was sure there was something he could do in the guest bedroom to occupy his brain until it finally drifted off to sleep, but none of them would be the full entertainment experience that Priya brought to the table when he was with her.

“None of them would stay still long enough for me to count them so I gave up.”

Stepping in to the room, he looked between her and Atticus, both comfortably arranged in her bed in what he could only assume was their nightly routine. And then there was Elijah, ready to mess it all up for the sake of being entertained.

Running towards her bed, he leapt and plopped down on it, causing Atticus to shift so as not to wind up being hit by him. He didn’t even wait for Priya to speak before he began making himself comfortable, moving pillows around and wiggling in his spot so that he was firmly settled. 

Patting at Atticus who still seemed uncertain of Elijah’s arrival, Eli looked around to see if there was a book nearby that he could pick up, perhaps something on the nightstand or floor. “Got anything good this week for reading?” He questioned enthusiastically, sounding as far off from sleep as possible. If Priya agreed to reading to him however, her soothing voice and the passages she read that most likely would go over his head would end up putting him right to sleep.

Momentarily giving up on his search, he looked back to the red head, finally checking in with her after having leapt onto her bed without her permission. He offered another one of his childish grins, taking a moment to attempt to move the piece of hair from her face before beginning to look around for something she could read to him. Not that he was looking very hard since he refused to move from his settled in position.

Priya could only watch as Elijah jumped on to her bed and nearly landed on Atticus. Her canine was not too pleased that someone else had invaded upon his territory and nearly taken him out. Pouncing on another dog was fine, pouncing on a human was one thing but for a human to pounce on him was out of the question. “It is okay, Atticus,” Priya soothed her faithful companion as he now made Priya’s body half of his new bed. There was plenty of room for Atticus and Elijah to sprawl out on, a king bed was meant for such things, but the pair seemed to one to be as close as possible to her. 

“You are both such children.” 

A remark made followed by light laughter. The two males were very much alike at times. Her gaze left Elijah and turned to first her night stand then and then bookshelf that contained a vast collection of just some of the works Priya had read. This bookshelf was nothing compared to the one that was in the living room. Books, like flowers, tended to be scattered around her home. From large books meant for the coffee table to small ones used as art she had just about everything and anything in between. 

“I always have something good for reading, you know that.” 

Books on Greek mythology Elijah had heard on numerous occasions. Should he have ever paid attention he may know one or two works by heart from the countless times she had interwoven those stories into conversation. As much as she loved them they were not right tonight. Works of fantasy by the likes of Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, Rachel Caine or even Mark Lawrence were more on par with how the night had faired but they would only aid in keeping the blonde awake. 

Shakespeare was out too along with other plays she read so frequently that the pages had become worn where her fingers touched them over the years. The books stacked on her bedside would not work either, for they were long, dense and were better read to herself than aloud so she could enjoy them. Tucked in the drawer beside her was a well worn copy of ‘The Happy Prince and Other Fairy Tales’ by Oscar Wilde. For nights like these, not that they happened often with Elijah in her bed, she kept a book she long held in her heart that could even make the most unruly child (Elijah) fall to sleep. It made her smile just by looking at the cover and running her finger down the book’s spine.

“Here.” Priya handed Elijah the book after she had retrieved from her night stand. “This should help.” 

[sinclairpriya]

hadleywest‌:

There was a playful eye roll from Hadley has Priya called her mom. She supposed she did sound like one at times and the mother was thankful that Theo was barely one and not giving her attitude yet. She knew not to press the subject despite wanting to. Priya needed to take better care of herself. She deserved it. Hadley wondered if a spa day could be a good Christmas gift and whether it would stay in the bottom of a drawer or actually be used. Maybe Hadley could kidnap Priya to take her for some relaxing time.

“Yesterday, you missed it. He was a tiny baby before that. At least, that’s how it feels,. she said with a laugh. “It doesn’t. My heart breaks every day when I look at him and realized he’s no longer a baby. And then I remember that I’m actually sleeping now, so it stitches itself back up.”

As much as she missed the little baby he was, and Theo was a tiny baby, she loved the stage he was at right now. And how easier things were now that they had found a rhythm and that help was easier to get.

“If someone is able to command time, it would be you. Let me know if you succeed.”

“I knew I missed it.” Priya tapped her fingers against the bar. If she was not in public a deep sigh would leave her lips and her arms would stretch as high as they could above her before hands worked at the knots in her neck. If she was going to be honest, sleep was not her friend at the moment. Death did not make a good bedfellow. “Remind me again what that is?” She absentmindedly asks. She does not expect a reply, it was asked without thought but she had forgotten for a moment who was across from her. Hadley was the equivalent of what Priya was to everyone else. If an opening was presented you bet Priya would swoop right in and see what she can do to help. 

“It is the new cool thing right that all the kids are doing? Am I finally a part of the cool crowd?” She quickly covered with a laugh before the phone in her palm begins to buzz. Her work was truly never done. “Manipulate time. Of course that would be my super power if I ever had one. We shall have to see about that.” If only she could just melt into the seat more but alas she was needed elsewhere. “Speaking of time, I should not be taking up anymore of yours and my time for leisure has officially run out.” A warm smile formed on her lips as she began to stand up from where she had sat. “Dinner, drinks and catching up. I’ll cook and you only have to bring little man unless you want it to be a child free night. We will be doing this when there is only one fire I have to put out instead of ten. Sound good?” 

[ssweeneys]

Wise words from Carlson Young

[sinclairpriya]

abel-costello‌:

He froze, not for being caught off guard in a place that should be untouched by the feud, but more to keep his temper in check. The last time he had seen Priya Sinclair was the night of the party where they danced, and her cryptic words came back to haunt Abel.

‘I just wanted one last dance.’

Abel felt such a fool and it only added to his anger, to have failed to see the trap laid out for Marcel Costello. Priya must’ve known something, and had it not been for the crowd that separated them, he would have gone to her and demanded answers.

Instead, he ignored the small greeting she’d thrown his way as Abel continued to stare at her.

And much like the previous times, the situation aligned itself and the consigliere was allowed passage. There was a small opening, from where he stood and where the redhead was trapped, and Abel slowly made his way towards her with a bottle of beer in hand. The sea of bodies shifted with his every step, and before Priya could move or open her mouth, he grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving. 

(Anywhere higher would attract attention.)

His jaw clenched as a new song started to play and blue eyes continued to bore into her. There was no speech prepared, no list of questions to interrogate her with, all that Abel knew was that she played a part of it somehow and he was going to make her admit it.

Her gaze flicked from where he had once been sitting to his hand wrapped around her wrist and then up to his eyes that bore into her. This gaze was not like ones she stared into before. Blue eyes had always had a trace of ice behind them but now they were as cold as winter’s storm. She should have just left when Clara asked her to tag along. Made a clean break then to allow her friend the alone time that the two so clearly wanted. 

Like a bird with a broken wing she was trapped on the ground where she had fallen. It was not as if she had not tried to free her wrist from his hold. When his hands, so much larger than her own, clasped down it had been her first reaction. This encounter was different than the others. She could feel it in the air and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight. Unlike the times before this touch was not wanted nor needed. 

Yell, scream or shout. That would the way to draw attention to them. Just one word. One sound and she could leave. Except her throat tightened and her body froze. What did he want with her? Idiotic question but still one she asked herself. She managed to loosen whatever spell had taken hold of her just enough for stern words to leave her lips, “Let go of my wrist.” She’d match his stare as best that she could. His was fueled by something forged from a dark place while hers was born from a survival instinct one could argue had finally kicked in. The instinct had always been there but it had been shrouded by diplomacy and words. 

[sinclairpriya]

abel-costello‌:

Date: November 2019 Location: The Empty Bottle, Chicago

There was a need for a break from the glint of sophistication that places like the Sapphire offered, and the Empty Bottle was one of the few places that were spared from the wreckage of the blackout; it had been a couple of years since Abel had been there, but the hole-in-the-wall bar had been one of his go-to places to be incognito. And now he’s back, a bottle of cheap beer in hand as the consigliere joined the crowd.

Dressed in an old shirt, jacket, jeans, and weather-beaten boots, Abel almost looked like any other person in attendance that night but the dead-eyed look on his face had people thinking twice before bothering him. He had his back against the wall as he drank, allowing him a good vantage point for anything; the Empty Bottle may be on neutral grounds but with the ongoing war, the rules were more of a guideline now.

A night out with boarding school friends had seemed like a good idea at the time. In retrospect, more planning should have been done on the part of her friend who planned this last minute get together. That is why it is called last minute, Priya knew that, but she still would have liked a little more advanced notice. It would have saved the group from showing up at two other establishments, one being a restaurant and another some club that her more enthusiastic friend wanted to go to. Apparently it was suppose to be hosting some hot shot DJ from New York and was going to be the talk of the town but the rioting done during the blackout had left that place a complete and utter mess. 

Not even a canon of confetti and glitter and colorful strobe lights, something the club was known for, could not cover the damage. So the group continued on, the five of them until after each location one friend partied ways until Priya and Clara were the two remaining. It was a shock to the both of them that out of the five Priya would be one of the last ones standing. Scratch that. The last one standing as Clara ran into someone she hadn’t seen since university and the pair had once been an item. The mysterious fling from uni named Isla that Priya had only heard so much about before whatever had been between the two of them ended. Priya understood and despite Clara’s apologies and asking if Priya wanted to tag along she waved the two females off and said to enjoy themselves but for her friend to call her so she knew she got home safely. 

Priya still was the mother of the group even now when one of her friends was actually a mother. They say that time changes the person you once were in high school but with her group of friends none of them changed that much. Some of tamed down but none of them lost the titles they once in humor gave to each other. As the last one standing it was time for Priya to go. Even if she hadn’t been left alone she did not exactly fit in with the rest of the crowd in terms of what they had on. Her long, light grey, double breasted, wool pin stripe coat worn over a black long sleeve turtle neck, jeans that did not have holes in them and black patten leather boots were a far cry from the easy that others wore. 

If it had not been for a large party blocking the route she had wanted to take to leave Priya would have never walked by where Abel sat nor would she have been stuck standing in front of him while she waited for everyone else to leave. The last time they had seen each other was during the Halloween event. When times were both different and the same as they were now except there was one less dead blood relation between the two of them. Walk, run, hide, side step, advert her eyes or say hi. Priya had many options but four would not be graceful and highly ineffective until the last of the new group sat down. One was just foolish for there was no way to hide the fact that she was looking right at him and had not seen him. That left her with the last option that could very well open something she could not close. But that hadn’t stopped the two before. Her hand rose to a small, side wave of acknowledgement as she waited for a clean, easy and simple way out to open for her. 

[sinclairpriya]

elijahxwilliams‌:

It almost seemed like no time at all that they had been walking and then wound up at Priya’s place. Most likely it was because of the fact that Elijah was still high and time had no meaning at the moment, but it could also be because Priya always managed to keep him preoccupied. That was a super power of hers or something. The ability to distract. Something he was grateful for time and time again he constantly found himself in need of entertainment.

The moment they entered her place he began looking around just to see if anything had changed from the last time he’d been there. Nothing seemed to be jumping out at him, at least not until Atticus came bounding towards them in reaction to their arrival. Crouching down briefly to ruffle Atticus’ head, he allowed the dog to give him a kiss on the cheek before he stood back up and watched as Priya and Atticus headed towards her bedroom.

Walking towards the room he’d claimed as his own, he opened the door and flipped the switch, noting that nothing seemed to have changed in this room either from the last time he’d been there. Heading to the dresser she had mentioned, he opened the drawer and took the clothes out. Who ever’s they were, his or Shiloh’s, they looked comfy enough to sleep in and he quickly shed his previous outfit in favor for these. Once he’d finished, he looked briefly at the bed, then reconsidered and went back into the hallway.

Making his way towards Priya’s bedroom instead, he knocked quietly on the door just in case she’d managed to already fall asleep. If she hadn’t yet, he was going to ask for one more form of entertainment. Just until he actually was tired enough to fall asleep.

Discarded with care, the articles of clothing that kept her warm tonight are folded onto the chair in the corner of her room. Fatigue begins to set in as the last button of her of her velvet, blue pajama set with white piping is done up. Even at night she still chose to match rather than look disheveled although no one would see her except for Atticus. Having order kept her calm during the nights she was restless. 

Atticus made himself comfortable, like he has always done, on her bed while Priya went about her nightly routine. Makeup washed off, face cleansed and her curls could fall freely down her shoulders and back with no hair restraint to keep them back. Except for one strand that always seem to fall down onto her face and obscure her vision. 

“Come in,” she called from her bathroom after the umpteenth attempt to keep that curl behind her ear. No matter what she did it always found its way back. Her little, unruly curl would win the battle tonight and stay where it fell until morning. A smile graced Priya’s lips as she sat down in bed with her sheets tucked around as one of her hands scratched at Atticus’ belly. It was no surprise to her that Elijah was not yet tucked tightly into his bed and sleeping off the high he may still currently be on. 

“Counting sheep or aliens, witches and the likes in the starry night not doing it tonight for you, E?”